


kinky advent prompts 2019

by silkymittsmcgee



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Advent Calendar, M/M, Masturbation, tipsy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkymittsmcgee/pseuds/silkymittsmcgee
Summary: merry christmas, ya filthy animals.some people had some great ideas. these are prompt fills fromzhenyabest'skinky advent prompts. december should be fun.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 91





	1. Masturbation

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd because my wife is at work. lol.
> 
> I highly doubt I will fulfill every prompt, because ya girl works too much. I'll do my best.

Sidney was vibrating in the passenger seat of Geno’s car. _Light exercise._ He had been cleared for light exercise. And with the way the doctor had raised his eyebrows at Sid, fidgeting on the crinkley paper in that exam room, Sid was pretty sure that meant _all kinds_ of light exercise. Two weeks of watching Cold War documentaries on the couch and going for long rambling walks while listening to podcasts was starting to drive him crazy, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he went two weeks without an orgasm. 

So now, all there was left to do was get home, close the front door, and spend a not insignificant amount of time giving himself orgasms. It was a good game plan. 

Until.

“Thanks for driving me, G, I really appreciate it.” Sid smiled at Geno and popped open the passenger side door. “I’ll see you at video review tomorrow?”

Geno grinned back at him, fat bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Lunch?”

“Uh, maybe!” Sid really could not think about anything other than going inside and jacking off furiously. He was sure that counted as light exercise. He slammed the door and smacked the top of the car goodbye before power walking inside, his body carefully angled away from the car to hide his half-chub in his slacks. 

He fumbled his keys out of his pocket and opened the door one-handed, the other already unbuckling his belt. Fuck, he was most of the way there, if only he had lube literally _anywhere_ downstairs. He groaned, finally getting a hand around his dick, and braced one shoulder against the wall just inside the front door. God, it felt so good. He licked his hand, then spit into it, sighing at the wetness. Lube would have been better, but horny beggars can’t be choosers. His muscles flexed easily as he thrust into the circle of his fist, and he was—it was—

The door was opening behind him. His front door was literally opening behind him, and he had his dick sticking out of the V of his slacks. He was never going to live this down, not in a million years. He stayed where he was, back to the door. “Um?”

“Sid? You okay?” It was Geno. “You walk funny, go into house. Injury okay?”

Sid debated the merits of trying to tuck his dick back into his slacks. He was so hard. And there was the belt—Geno would definitely hear it. Why hadn’t he just worn sweats. “Yeah, no, for sure, I’m fine.”

Sidney could hear Geno moving closer, could smell his aftershave. He got incrementally harder. _Not_ helpful. “You sure? Why you stand here, in door?”

“I’m just—I was just—” Sid couldn’t think. He couldn’t hardly breathe, he could feel Geno’s warmth all the way up his back. He must be standing right behind Sidney, fuck, he must be able to see Sid’s hand on his junk, what the _fuck_ was happening. 

Geno was gripping his hip hard. Geno was breathing on his neck. “Sid.”

Sid’s hand jerked on his dick and he gasped. “G, just—just go, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Fuck, fuck, _fuck_, this shouldn’t be so hot.

Geno hummed. “I think no. I think stay. Make sure you okay.”

“Fuck, Geno, I’m really—” _Close_, fuck, he was so close, he was barely moving his hand, but God, he could come at any moment. He gave one last-ditch effort. “The trainers!” he said—well, squeaked, really. “I’ll check in with them tomorrow, I promise!”

“Maybe Andy tell me keep eye on you.” Geno’s voice was low, rough in his ear, and Sid shuddered, his hand speeding up, somewhat against his will. “Maybe tell me watch you. Tell me how you go too hard, too fast. Maybe,” he crooned, “maybe he tell me to help you out.”

Sid gasped as Geno’s huge hand encircled his own on his cock, tightening his grip and slowing the pace. Sid didn’t usually like it so tight, but Geno was—Geno’s thumb swiped at the tip, collecting a bead of moisture that glistened there and using it to smooth the glide. It was so stupidly good. “G, I’m—”

“Yes.” Geno rumbled, his breath heavy on the back of Sid’s neck. “Come, Sid. I like so much.”

It felt like Geno was everywhere, his mouth on Sid’s neck, one hand clenched on Sid’s hip, the other wrapped around Sid’s cock. His body was moulded to the line of Sid’s back, and Sid thought he could feel—maybe it was—

Geno was rubbing his hard dick against Sid’s ass. Geno was hard for him, for this, for Sid so desperate to come he was jacking off in his foyer, he was—

“I tell you, come.”

His breath exploded out of him as he felt his stomach seize up, shooting all over their joined hands and the bottom of Sid’s shirt. He gasped for breath and let his head thunk back on Geno’s shoulder. Geno, who was also breathing heavily, and thrusting minutely against Sid’s ass. Sid mouthed at the line of his jaw, and Geno let out an exhale that was more of a whine. “Sid.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, turning in Geno’s arms. “Come on.” He reached for Geno’s belt buckle with his one clean hand, but brushed against—his slacks were—”G, did you…”

Geno tilted his head back, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Sid, you know you so—”

His hand was still on Sid’s hip. Sid bit his lip and looked up through his lashes. “Yeah?”

Geno huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Sid murmured, rucking up the bottom of Geno’s shirt to trace a pattern on his abdomen, “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve been cleared for light physical activity.”

“Oh, really?” Geno’s answering smile was sly, a little hopeful. “That amazing, Sid. You do what, swim? Maybe walk, is good for you.” Sid jabbed him in the stomach. “Ouch.”

“Stay for lunch?”

“Is all I want,” Geno exclaimed. “Orgasms bonus.”

“Fuck off.”

“You feed me sandwich, maybe I give blowjob.”

“Deal.”


	2. tipsy sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 2. college hockey bros get frisky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd because I want to post it and don't want to wait. 
> 
> Al, this is for you.
> 
> My wife's contribution to the idea factory:
> 
> Bro 1: *instantly grabs the dick of Bro 2*  
Bro 2: “Bruh.”

It was close, crowded in the basement. The music was so loud, Zhenya could feel it in his lungs—the heavy thump of the bass vibrating up his throat and settling in his jaw with a deep hum. The guys had scrounged up some Christmas lights and strung them along the walls, an eye-searing combination of classic white lights and the multicolored ones that Zhenya had always thought were so stupid-looking. Kris was bopping his head to the track, poking at the beat-up old iPad that controlled the playlist—he was pretty sure that the team had gotten it from Tanev’s older brother last year, but he wasn’t sure.

He had been to the hockey house relatively often this year, for team dinners, so he had known exactly where to go to find alcohol. He was nursing a sweating plastic cup of shitty vodka (he _knew_ that there were other Russians in this fucking friend group, so why was the vodka _always so bad?_) and moving his hips lazily to the beat of the music while he vaguely considered trying to get Sasha to buy him some better alcohol. Honestly, maybe he should just switch to beer. Or rum. Or literally anything else. He bet that Sasha (or, more likely, one of his frat brothers) would buy him some whiskey—wasn’t whiskey an impressive thing to drink? Zhenya thought so.

Maybe the vodka was okay, after all.

He wound through the dancers, bumping shoulders and smiling, and made his way over to Tanger. “Hey!”

Tanger grinned at him, a little maniacal-looking. “What’s up, bro? You wanna request a song?”

Zhenya shook his head. “No, I’m look for Sasha—you know if he here?”

“Kitchen!” Kris shouted, then whooped as Catherine popped out of the crowd, shimmying her shoulders. Zhenya beat a hasty retreat.

*

Sasha was _not_ in the kitchen. But there _was_ a bottle of spiced rum stashed on top of one of the cabinets, behind a decorative vase. Score.

“You know, that was in a hiding place for a reason.”

Zhenya started, sloshing rum over his fingers as he threw a glance over his shoulder towards the doorway. He flushed hotly. It was Sidney. Sidney, who Zhenya had been nursing a delicate crush on for the past several months. He gulped. “Hi, Sid.”

“Hey, Geno.” Sid crossed his arms. It was rude how hot he was. His muscles strained against the faded blue fabric of his t-shirt, and Zhenya had to remind himself to look back up at Sid’s face. “Pour me some, eh?”

He nodded, sure that he was blushing up to his ears. This was fine. It was fine. His hands shook as he poured the rum. 

“You having a good time, man?”

“Yes, is nice. Tanger find good music.” He wrinkled his nose. “But vodka _very_ bad.”

Sid snorted a little, and Zhenya tried desperately not to find it endearing. He failed. “I’m pretty sure that one of the New Hampshire guys poured some Everclear in there, so that makes sense.”

“Gross.”

“You’re not wrong, bro.” Sid knocked back his drink (slightly less impressive due to the fact that it was rum, but nevertheless, the long line of his throat was distracting) and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You wanna dance, or something?”

Zhenya blinked. Did he want to...dance? With Sid? “With you?”

He could have jumped off a cliff with mortification at actually having asked aloud, but Sid just laughed and set his cup aside. “Yeah, with me.”

“I’m...yes. I want.” So bad. He wanted it so bad.

“Cool, cool. Come on.”

They descended the stairs to the basement again, Zhenya trailing Sid closely as Sid led him to the center of the group of dancers. He grinned at Zhenya, one side of his mouth pulling up a little higher than the other, and Zhenya could feel his heart pounding. He hadn’t even done anything yet. The music thrummed in his chest. Sid was dancing, his movements so fluid and sensual that Zhenya was honestly a little shocked—nobody would think, after seeing Sid’s bow legged gait, that he could possibly move like that. His head was spinning. Maybe the rum was a bad idea. He couldn’t believe that this was happening to him, could believe it even less when Sid raised his arms to drape them over Zhenya’s shoulders, bringing their bodies together in an easy grind.

“Is this okay, bro?” Sid asked, his voice rumbling into Zhenya’s ear. Overcome, Zhenya could only nod in reply. Sid grinned, his eyes narrowing to happy crinkles in his face. Fucking hell, Zhenya was so into him. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

“I’m—me, too.” Zhenya rasped. His hands found their shaky way to Sid’s thick waist, and Zhenya darted a look down to Sid’s face as he slid a daring thumb along the cut of Sid’s hip. Sid’s pupils were blown out, pitch black with a thin ring of hazel surrounding. He licked his lips, hopeful. “I like.”

“You wanna—” Sid cleared his throat. “You wanna go upstairs, maybe?”

“Yes.”

*

Sid led him up the stairs at a breakneck pace, waving people off with the one free hand that wasn’t clutching Zhenya’s. “I’m on the third floor, it should be pretty quiet up there.”

Zhenya wobbled a little on the landing, head swimming. “You live here?”

“Yeah, I got Duper’s room when he graduated.” They reached the third floor, and Sid dug a key out of his jeans pocket. He glanced up at Zhenya, full bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concern. “You’re not, like, too trashed for this?”

“No,” Zhenya said immediately. “I’m only have little, just little drunk, is okay.”

“Because I for sure don’t want you to, like, regret anything.”

Zhenya rolled his eyes and slid his hand around the back of Sid’s neck, resting one thumb behind the shell of Sid’s ear. “Sid, is only _little_ drunk. I’m promise.” He considered, briefly, leaving it at that, but Sid still didn’t look convinced, so he decided to lay all his cards on the table. “I’m—I’m like you, so much. Since I come here, I like.”

Apparently honesty was the best policy, because Sid flushed a blotchy red, his eyes going dark. “I like you, too.” He cleared his throat and pressed back into Zhenya’s hand. “I’ve liked you for a while.”

Zhenya grinned, pleased. “Good.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the short hairs at the base of Sid’s skull. “We go inside?”

Sid shivered and shouldered open the door, dragging Zhenya behind him. He spun to shut and lock the door, and Zhenya pressed his body along the line of Sid’s back, mouthing at his neck. He traced his tongue along Sid’s chain, and Sid huffed out a breath—almost a laugh, but too turned-on to count. “Can I kiss you, G?”

“Yes, I’m—” Sid’s mouth cut him off, crushing against his lips, finally, fucking finally. He cupped Sid’s jaw, thumbing at the joint until Sid opened his mouth for Zhenya’s tongue, slick and hot. Sid sucked on his tongue, used his teeth, and Zhenya did the same, nipping at Sid’s full bottom lip, licking into his mouth, keeping Sid’s face right where he wanted it with the force of his grip. He ground his hips into Sid’s abs, his dick suddenly demanding attention, straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Fuck, man,” Sid groaned, grinding his hips up, trying to get their cocks aligned. “C’mon, G, I’ve been waiting—”

Zhenya trailed his mouth along Sid’s jaw, biting carefully at the delicate skin under his ear. “What you want?”

“Fuck me,” Sid gasped into the air by Zhenya’s ear, “Please, Geno, fuck me.”

Zhenya’s blood burned. He grabbed Sid by his belt loops and started walking backwards, trusting Sid to steer him clear of any obstacles. The backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat, pulling Sid into the V of his legs. He slid his hands under Sid’s shirt, rucking it up his chest so that he could trace his mouth along the abs he had so carefully avoided looking at in the locker room. God, he was so perfect. “Clothes, off. Want see you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck—” Zhenya wasn’t sure he had ever seen someone strip that fast, and God, did he appreciate it. 

He grabbed his own shirt and yanked it off over his head, chucking it in a corner. “Sid, you have—”

Sid was down to his boxer-briefs, the black fabric clinging to his hips and thighs and _fuck_, this was the best day of Zhenya’s life. “Yeah, shit, here,” he rifled through a side table and chucked a half-empty bottle of lube and a single foil packet on the bed. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Eager,” Zhenya teased, and pushed Sid onto his back, reaching for the waistband of his boxers. “Okay?”

“Yeah, dude, this is so good, God,” Sid panted as he wrestled out of his underwear. “Get your jeans off, I wanna—”

Zhenya shucked the rest of his clothes and clambered back onto the bed, pressing his dick up against his abs with one flat palm. He was so hard it almost hurt, but there was no way he was going to rush this. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under Sid’s hips, kissing the inside of one of Sid’s knees as he uncapped the lube and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers. He trailed his fingers along Sid’s ass, teasing at his hole with a fingertip before pressing in, the hot slide of Sid’s ass _unbelievable_. “Fuck, Sid.”

“Give me another, come on, G, I can take it.” Sid was so beautiful. His face and chest were blotchy with exertion, sweat gleaming on his brow bone and neck. Zhenya drew his finger out, added more lube, and pressed back in, giving it to Sid in long strokes. Sid’s dick jumped against his stomach, and Zhenya scissored his fingers, marvelling.

“You gonna fuck me some time today, bro?”

“Shut up, stop tease.” Zhenya muttered. He twisted and curled his fingers, searching. “I’m find you G-spot.”

Sidney laughed at him. “Uh, I think that’s gonna be a little difficult, bud, but y—fuck!” he yelped as he writhed, ass tightening almost painfully on Zhenya’s fingers.

“I’m find.” Zhenya said, smugly. “You like.”

“Yeah I fucking like it, now give me another and _do it again_.”

Three fingers was an epiphany. Three fingers was almost everything Zhenya had ever wanted in life. The grip of Sid’s body around him was unbearably hot, and Zhenya was suddenly, achingly aware of how hard he was. “Sid, can I—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sid ripped open the condom and reached for him, rolling it on his dick and slicking him up with admirable efficiency. “Get in me, come on.”

Zhenya obeyed, drawing out his fingers and shuffling forward to brace himself with his elbows on either side of Sid’s head. He gasped as he felt Sid’s hand on his dick, guiding him in, and then suddenly everything was tight, hot, mind-blowing friction. He paused, panting, waiting for Sidney to adjust, but Sid just growled and dragged him in with both hands on Zhenya’s ass, until he was balls-deep inside of Sid, swearing under his breath. He wasn’t even sure he was swearing in English. His dick was so hard.

“Move,” Sid grunted, and rolled his hips, his ass a slow, searing glide. 

Zhenya shifted, drawing his hips back until the head of his cock was just inside Sid’s body, then drove back inside, setting a deep, rolling pace that was absolutely blowing his mind. “Sid, Sid,” he chanted, his abs seizing up with the sudden surety he was going to come, and soon. “Come on, Sid.” He reached a hand down to wrap around Sid’s cock, gave it two, three strokes, and then suddenly Sid was coming, shuddering in Zhenya’s arms, striping his stomach and Zhenya’s hand in come. Zhenya thrust wildly half a dozen more times and came, groaning, his breath sawing out of him like he had just run a marathon.

He collapsed to the side, careful not to crush Sid, and removed the condom, tying it off and chucking it at a trash bin in the corner of the room. A couple of tissues used to clean Sid up followed, and Zhenya hovered between sitting up and laying back down, unsure.

Sid pet at his back with one shaky hand, sighing dreamily. “You wanna stay? I think I have bacon in the chest freezer. Could do pancakes.”

Zhenya smiled and snuggled in, burying his face in Sid’s sweaty neck. “You have jam?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good on pancakes.”

“Gross, dude.”

Zhenya laughed. “Hey, Sid?”

“Yeah?”

“You want to go out, sometime?”

“Like a date?” Sid asked. Zhenya nodded, and he could feel Sid grin against his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”


End file.
